


Veronica the Hun

by SkylaRose



Series: Lead it Home [3]
Category: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Attila the Hun - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Not Canon Compliant, Pet Names, a little bit angsty, don’t call me baby, smut-lite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23545021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylaRose/pseuds/SkylaRose
Summary: Pet names are normally Logan’s forte. Does he strike out this time?
Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Series: Lead it Home [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683988
Comments: 27
Kudos: 38





	Veronica the Hun

**Author's Note:**

> After writing What’s in a name, where we meet Athena Echolls, VMarsTrek wrote a lovely comment that sparked the origin story of the pet names Logan uses for Veronica. Thanks for the inspiration lovely xx

“Veronica!!”

Logan’s voice bellows down the hall of his apartment. Their apartment. Now just his apartment again. Or so it would seem.

He walks into their bedroom. His bedroom. _Fuck_. The large bed in the centre of the room with its lush navy cover can barely be seen. A catalogue of every piece of clothing Veronica owns including a few of his, in disarray across it. 

Keeping his voice as casual as he can. “That’s _my_ UCLA hoodie”. As he watches her stash said hoodie into a bag.

Veronica looks venomously at him. “I wear it. It’s mine.” The petulance and the pout said everything.

No facts. Just running.

“Are we going to talk about this ‘Ronica? Or are you just gonna go all Attila the Hun all over my ass? Making claim to my wardrobe. And running me through before we talk about this.”

“There is nothing to talk about.” Head tilt. Narrowing eyes. Lips pursed. Lower lip popping out to blow a breath upwards as her hair fell across her face. 

From Logan’s point of view she looked almost feral. Manic movements. Muttering under her breath. Pacing like a lion. Like a _bobcat_. He is still unsure how they got to this point. It’s like they were just cruising along and then Veronica slammed into top gear. Foot to accelerator. Accelerator to floor. Wardrobe on their bed. His bed. Bags on their floor. His floor. A man could get whiplash.

* * *

He happily answered her call as he was leaving the publishing house. He has some big news for her. They needed to discuss options. No decisions had been made. He would not make them without her. If she wasn’t in. He wasn’t in.If they wanted him that badly they would compromise.

“What the actual fuck Logan?When were you going to tell me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.You know exactly what I’m talking about. New York!The house in Connecticut. When were you gonna tell me? The realator left a voice mail on our phone.” Pausing. Correcting. “Your phone. Done deal she said. Can’t wait to meet you she said. Heard all about you she said. She sounded like sex line operator.” She knew how she sounded. Jealous. She didn’t care. She had pieced together the story. She would come out the victor. In her mind it all made sense. 

Logan tried to get a word in while she drew breathe. 

“Veronica. I think the office got a little ahead of themselves. I was going to talk you. I was coming home to talk you about it right now.”

“Well you know what Logan? There’s nothing to talk about. You have been cagey for weeks. I knew something was wrong. I should have known it would only be a matter of time. But no. New and improved we were. So I left it. Now I find out you’re moving and you didn’t even talk to me about it. Don’t worry I spoke to Jasmine. I’ll surf her couch.” Phone disconnected. 

_Fuck!_

* * *

Now he was standing in the doorway of their bedroom. His bedroom. _Fuck it! It’s our room._ His whole life unraveling in one tiny blonde tornado.

She stops. Shoulders squared. She looks at him. The storm brewing in her eyes. Giving them a grey flinty edge. The look that told him he was either going to take a stiletto to the head. Or have the best sex of his life. Certain that it’s option one, he steadies his feet.

“Did you just refer to me as Atilla the Hun?”

Logan closed his eyes tightly. Dragging a hand warily across his jaw and into his hair. Pulling at the roots. _I’m so fucked right now_. “Veronica.” Nothing. “Ronnie.” Nothing. “Baby.”

“Don’t you dare call me baby. I’m not someone you can just cajole into your way of thinking. I am my own person.“ 

_So fucked._ He sent out a silent prayer. _Lilly? A little help here._

“Veronica. Let’s start over. Hey. How you going? So I just got out of a meeting. The publishing house wants me to head up their crime editorial division. I can still write. And work with new authors. So win win.”

“Let me guess. It’s in frigging New York City. Same as your realtor.And your cushy house over the boarder in Connecticut.” The sing song voice made Logan shiver. He was walking on dangerous ground. 

“I told them I was in.” It was the wrong thing to say. Veronica jumped on it. 

“Of course you did! And then you called me Attila the fucking Hun,” she snapped at him. “Well mister let’s-talk-everything-through. I can see that rule only applies to me.”She knew she was sounding childish. A crazed shrew. She could see the incredulous look on his face. Then she saw it shadow over in anger. 

“You know what?Damn right I called you Attila the Hun. Look at you. Readying yourself battle. But do you know what, Veronica? It’s all bullshit. All full of piss and wind. What are you really running away from, right now?I was gonna talk to you. Today. If you were in. I was in. If not, and they still wanted me to run the department we would come up with a solution. But this.” With a flourish of his hand. Indicating the bed. Her. “This is something else.” He took a steadying breath. “So Attila. What is it really?What is this war about?What happened to my sweet as honey girl?”

“You did!” She blurted out as she reaches into her pocket. Small black box in hand. Now projectile. Hitting Logan hard and fast in the chest. It snapped open as it clattered to the floor. It was empty. 

“You’re raising an army for an empty box?Wow. You’re slipping, Mars. Did you wanna call Mr C and the Sheriff have them check the lockers in gym?” With a conspiratorial look he brings his hand up to the side of his face as if to tell her a secret. In a over the top whisper he continues. “There could be empty boxes everywhere.” 

“I don’t want to get married!”

“Whoa!” His fingers again pulling at the roots of his hair. “It’s a rando empty box, Veronica. Not a proposal. Sometimes an empty box is just that. Empty.”

Veronica deflates. He watches as she goes from war waging warrior to tired and small in an instant. She looks up at him and then down at her life strewn across the bed.

“Oh, God. Logan I’m sorry.” The fight has left her. She reflects on the past few weeks. She found the box. Logan has been weird. The job offer. The realtor. Conclusions jumped. A miscalculation made. Old habits.

New habits though mean apologizing. “Old habits die hard?” It should have been a statement. Sounded more like a question. “I’m, well I, I jumped to conclusions.“ She finally rushes out. She may have come a long way, but apologizing blows.

“You think?” Logan smirks with more than a hint of jackass. Because two could play the nostalgia game.She is the runner. He is the jackass. His skin tickles. Her does too. He can see it. Her eyes no longer flint filled. Now predatory. What did she just say about old habits? This was one of his favourite _old Veronica_ habits. The fight always fuels her hormones. Looks like option two is on the cards after all.

Three strides and she’s in his arms. Climbing up his body. Wet open mouthed kisses fluttering along his neck. Logan lifts her, making his way to the bed. Now wardrobe. Tossing her amongst the clothes.

“So what say you Attila? Fancy a tumble?”

“Oh, no no no. That’s not happening.” Logan is confused.Her words do not match her actions. She’s reaching for his belt buckle. Lips chasing down his as she tells him no.He’s not going to question it. He just reaches up skimming the sides of her breasts as he pulls her shirt. His shirt. Over her head.

“I beg to differ,” he purred against her. Taking her nipple between his teeth.

“Not that, you idiot. No Attila in the bedroom.” Pushing him away from her.

“So you concede to Attila then?” He mumbles. His mouth still against the peak of her breast.

Veronica scores his scalp. “I do not concede,” she almost growls, as Logan ramps up the suction.

Releasing her, he smirks. “So definitely still Bobcat in the bedroom then?” Thumbing the now wet skin as he traverses hot wet kisses across her chest to the tip of her other breast. He pauses. The jackass coming to surface once again. “And Attila everywhere else?” Before she can escape him again, he anchors his arms around her. Nipping at her skin.

“Most definitely not!” She admonishes. Her body contradicts her words. Hands in his hair pulling him closer. Pushing herself against him.She feels his snicker before she hears it. 

“Let’s lock this down then Mars, shall we?” Trailing fingers down her hips. “Bobcat in the bedroom.” Hands at her waist band. “Hun outside the bedroom.” Hand dipping below the fabric. Grazing across her heated sex. “And Attila for you’re being a..” Two fingers push up into her. Any retort she may have fades into a moan. Conversation over. There a more pressing matters at hand. 

Logan wakes in the night. Unfurling Veronica from him, he left the bed. Walking down to the kitchen. Heart in his mouth. At the kitchen bench he reaches for his wallet. Flipping it open he finds what he is looking for. An envelope. Up ending it into his palm. Peacock blue flashes in the dim light. He feels the weight of the blue-green sapphire ring in his hand. Sometimes an empty box, isn’t just an empty box.


End file.
